


A New Hobby

by ThoughtfulFangirl



Category: MMFR, Mad Max Fury road, Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 12:45:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11851842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThoughtfulFangirl/pseuds/ThoughtfulFangirl
Summary: When asked for a prompt, I received: "Maybe something with Furiosa and finding a new hobby, now that she has time to pursue stuff that’s not all 'manly' and stuff?” "





	A New Hobby

Furiosa lowered herself, cross-legged, into the small circle of women, two of whom were the remaining Vuvalini. She was spending most of her evenings with them when she could no longer work. Since recovering after the Fury Road, she’d found she didn’t like the idle moments between work, but truth was, several months later and things were running smoothly at Citadel. She liked to keep busy. She didn’t know what to do with herself if it wasn’t something productive, something to push forward. But something about that had started to feel wrong. She couldn’t place what it was.

The soft murmurs of the Vuvalini women as they told their stories and stitched their fabrics focused her back in on her surroundings. The Vuvalini were the sharpest shooters at Citadel and often took shifts as sentries, but in the evenings, they wove. They had taught Cheedo this art, and she sat among them as well, her fingers dancing with the threads as she crafted an intricate scarf. Toast had even taken up the hobby as part of a bargain with Weaver. Toast wanted to learn their aim, but Weaver insisted that nimble, agile fingers were an important step. Toast wasn’t half as good as Cheedo, but she had made much progress since beginning.

Furiosa turned her gaze away, her phantom fingers itching jealously. She hadn’t asked them to teach her, not with only half the nimble fingers that the Revolutionaries had.

“You look troubled,” Nightengale commented, as she finished her stitches, tying off a knot in the pants she was mending.

Furiosa didn’t know how to answer that. Imminently, knowing she’d never share this part of their nightly rituals troubled her greatly, but this was in large part because she found that she was, in general, discontent.

“Dag asked about you today.” Cheedo commented, looking up from her project. Her fingers didn’t stop moving. “Come with me to visit her tomorrow. She said to say so.”

-

Furiosa wondered how long it had been since she saw Dag last. The woman had made a home for herself among the Green. She’d even had a small cottage built so she never didn’t have to leave her plants. Her stomach had become swollen and even the rest of her body had finally held some weight. Her skin had tanned, more than Furiosa would have thought possible given how ivory it had been. She held her hair back in a scarf Furiosa remembered as Cheedo’s first finished project.

Dag and Cheedo embraced as they approached, and Furiosa averted her gaze. She suspected that they would become more in the future, after they’d had plenty of time to heal. It made her feel something unpleasant, and instead of linger, she looked at the place, only to feel another stab.

She’d never been given the privilege to come up her. In truth, she never tried. When she was part of the wheels that turned in Citadel, she couldn’t bear to see something that look so much like Home.

Now, knowing home was gone, she suspected it was worse.

She turned to leave, needing to get free of this place, understanding why Weaver and Nightengale also rarely came here, but came to a stop as a hand firmly grasped her wrist. She jerked around, ready to attack, but the hand was gone, and Dag had moved back. 

“Sorry. But you can’t go yet. You’ve finally arrived.” She turned back toward her garden. “I need help up here. I was hoping you could find me someone. I need to pull up the weeds, but I can’t.”

“Is it very difficult?” Furiosa asked, not quite managing to keep a touch of skepticism out of her voice. Another change in Dag was that her arms were no longer thin. They had clearly defined muscles beneath the skin, surely from all the labor she put into this garden and the surrounding food crops that had already been started by Joe’s people.

“Yes. Not in the way you mean though. It’s against everything I am to uproot something green and beautiful, even if it suffocates the other plants I need help.” She gave a shrug. “I can’t do it myself. I was hoping someone would come who can.” At the last, her intense blue eyes met Furiosa’s.

-

Cheedo didn’t stay long. Once Furiosa said she’d help, Dag had shooed her frequent companion off. Furiosa had wondered why at the time, but now, as the last moments of daylight creeped beyond the horizon, she understood. Furiosa couldn’t have guessed how much work would be involved in the task. She’d thought to do it real quick and be done. Instead, Dag had rattled on about which plants needed to be pulled from the ground. It hadn’t been as easy as Dag pointing to a type of plant and Furiosa just plucking those. There were various different kinds of weeds that had needed pulling, and there had been plants Furiosa would have thought were weeds but weren’t.

Her head and back ached as she left the roof of Citadel, and even though her head ached from the overload of information, she felt *good.* Her right hand was sore and her left shoulder nearly numb, but it was like learning to ride or shoot all over again in a way. And the fresh air had been surprisingly refreshing.

-

When Furiosa returned the next day, Dag gave her a long look. The weeds were gone. It would be another week at least until any would regrow enough to need the plucking. Even then it wouldn’t be the same. She had let them grow out of control in her inability to remove them on her own.

Furiosa felt oddly dejected. Her years of self control kept her from glancing around the garden for something to do. It would have been useless. She wouldn’t even know what there would be to do. Somehow, Dag saw through her.

Several more hours of making holes in the dirt, and Furiosa was itching to understand why. When she asked, Dag had smiled softly and led her into the cottage. “I will tell you about gardening. In return for such knowledge, you will tend my garden when the time comes.” She placed a hand on her stomach.

Furiosa paled, struck by the realization that if she did so, she’d see the baby, hear it cry. She would be-

“Someone has to do it.” Dag said matter of factly. She didn’t sound like she was going to hear any arguments, and Furiosa smiled. The woman had grown in confidence. Already she had garnered an aura of mysticism, and the people of Citadel spoke of her in hushed, reverent voices. The bold asked her for prayers. Some had even asked for rituals. She had made a place for herself here. 

-

Dag’s labor had come and gone. Furiosa spent most of her free time out among the fruits and vegetables and herbs of Dag’s garden. She even fixed Dag soothing teas from the herbs in the garden every now and then. The sight of the child still made Furiosa’s stomach churn. Capable had left her duties in Citadel to care for Dag and the babe. Furiosa could tell at times that it was too much for Dag, and she would join Furiosa in the gardens. At first, she simply offered extra instructions or talked about what she was going to do with this or that plant.

Over time, they began to speak more intimately. Dag would talk about the plants she found in books and how she wished she could see them in person. In turn, Furiosa spoke about the plants she remembered in The Green Place, the tall grasses, the small purple flowers you could eat if you wanted though didn’t really have a taste, and finally, of the peach trees.

-

More months passed, and Dag shared her excitement at how so many of Keeper’s seeds had flourished. She had expected many to die. Every few weeks, when one had survived longer than expected, Dag had been in the habit of trying to grow a new one. She still had some untried seeds, but she had decided she was done for now. She wanted to collect seeds from those growing before she risked any of the raw materials she had received from the Vuvalini.

Furiosa on the other hand, found herself impatient. She carried a treasure with her for weeks, unable to muster up the courage to ask her favor until one day, Dag asked.

“You had that with you.”

“Mm?” Furiosa leaned back from the digging she’d been doing.

“That small pouch. It was with you. On the Fury Road. I’d forgotten until I saw it hanging from your waist 38 days past.”

Furiosa fingered the pouch, her heart pounding. Was she ready? She knew Dag wouldn’t deny her. How could she?

The woman stared at her, her gaze searching. Furiosa could tell that she wanted to ask, but she had decided better of it. Finally, she sighed. She untied the pouch from her waist and spilled two seeds into her palm.

“Of the plants from the Green Place, it’s the peaches I missed the most.”


End file.
